What began as a diary of sorts to help me cope with Multiple Sclerosis, has turned into a book of portraits I have painted that, more often than not, have very little to do with MS. This is for the artists who taught me the most beautiful things come from pain, and my sister, Stacey, who also has MS...

07/29/2017

18 hugs a day keeps the psychiatrist away.

So I read that we need 18 hugs just to be emotionally on par. To be really Zen, hug everyone I presume. So I had just woken, followed Tony to the kitchen and tried to give him a solid three hugs to leave the house with. I also figured out the numbers...each one of us would have to really focus on getting 6 hugs in with the other three family members. The thing with hugs is that when you give you also receive...so that messed my numbers up a bit more. We needed designated huggers each day?

Whatever. SO I'm telling him this and he said, "Imagine if we hugged 18 times before I left for work every morning, like as we were busy and getting the kids ready?" In my home, those are fighting words. He whipped out the camera and recorded it. I just woke up and was hella shy but did it.

Today, to get him back, I decided when he woke up, I'd do the same thing. The only problem, he was in his underwear. Nothing one of my sweaters couldn't fix. So here's Part 1 and Part 2 of 18 hugs. In all seriousness, you should spread them out so the chemicals are released evenly throughout your day and the person feels secure consistently. BUT, laughing with my husband and doing the dumbest things together is just as healing.

The cranial and cervical lesions are taking a toll. My ears hurt like I have people following me, piercing the cartilage. My throat, or trachea, feels like there's a ball in it. Breathing feels so strained sometimes I feel like I'm drowning. It is the worst hell. I was sad last month because of people I can't control. Why? They choose hate and lies and people choose to believe and I refuse to even attempt to change their minds. If you KNOW ME you should know the truth. God knows who I am, and the people that love me. But the stress, the mourning (it's like a death) really took over. I was catatonic almost. Indifferent. Showering was like...running a marathon. I truly thought my life was not worth living. I'd have crazy thoughts about what is the easiest, most pain free way to go. Please, if you feel that way, seek help. Be robotic. I didn't want help, but knew the protocol to save myself and just did it. I had to remove all feeling.

But then something tragic and magical happened soon after. They discontinued my meds and put me on this patch thing. My heart felt confused. I was withdrawing from the other thing and my heart was beating erratically. When it does that, you cannot breathe. I was laying here convinced I was going to die in front of my son. My body was started to get rigid and things were jerking. I begged my husband to come home. I couldn't have my little guy be here if this was it. But I tried my hardest to keep my gaze on him, to stay alive.

And then I just said the Our Father. I wasn't ready to die. I apologized over and over for such stupid thoughts. It felt wrong. I was meant to live. And then something crazy happened - something that happens when I am praying and spot on - my entire body filled with chills and a squeeze. It's like a hug from a ghost. An angel? A loved one that has transitioned before me? Jesus? I don't know. But I DO know, I don't want to go - I don't want to suffocate to death slowly either, I don't want to lose all my faculties (the spreading to my throat and ears suggests the lesion is getting bigger and I am closer to that), BUT I don't want to go now. It's too soon. And you know who I worried about other than my kids and T, my family that I am estranged from, "God don't let them find out I passed, not like this. They don't love me, but death changes people and I don't want them rehashing the awful things they did."

I was really dying. And I was thinking of the people who have caused me the greatest pain in my life, "God, please, I can't go thinking they may be hurt."

Maybe there was a point to this. I will let go of worry etc. Just be happy and make people smile. And maybe I am not so bad because my heart was broken for the people who continuously try to break me.

I am loved. I'm so blessed. And you need to know, yes it is depressing feeling like you are a burden. But God made you and every person who gets to know you and love you and laugh because of you... is blessed. I had to share my story with a woman in the same situation as me, this morning, only she didn't want to live. I could tell she was struggling. Her post read like my diary. So, I decided this is what I needed to tell her, and I am telling you. My heart started beating normally again for a reason, I regained breath...maybe it is to tell you to stop feeling like you have no purpose. Every person, caretaker, who gets to touch you is blessed and is fulfilling a divine calling to love and serve and connect...

Hug anyone and everything you can. I don't care if it's a tree. I'm not hugging enough. Try it. It helps. And believe me whenI say, you really do not want to end this life. You just want to end MS. There's a difference. This is for Ella.

If you feel any feelings whatsoever about suicide, please call the National suicide Prevention Healthline, Call 1-800-273-8255

Comments

18 hugs a day keeps the psychiatrist away.

So I read that we need 18 hugs just to be emotionally on par. To be really Zen, hug everyone I presume. So I had just woken, followed Tony to the kitchen and tried to give him a solid three hugs to leave the house with. I also figured out the numbers...each one of us would have to really focus on getting 6 hugs in with the other three family members. The thing with hugs is that when you give you also receive...so that messed my numbers up a bit more. We needed designated huggers each day?

Whatever. SO I'm telling him this and he said, "Imagine if we hugged 18 times before I left for work every morning, like as we were busy and getting the kids ready?" In my home, those are fighting words. He whipped out the camera and recorded it. I just woke up and was hella shy but did it.

Today, to get him back, I decided when he woke up, I'd do the same thing. The only problem, he was in his underwear. Nothing one of my sweaters couldn't fix. So here's Part 1 and Part 2 of 18 hugs. In all seriousness, you should spread them out so the chemicals are released evenly throughout your day and the person feels secure consistently. BUT, laughing with my husband and doing the dumbest things together is just as healing.

The cranial and cervical lesions are taking a toll. My ears hurt like I have people following me, piercing the cartilage. My throat, or trachea, feels like there's a ball in it. Breathing feels so strained sometimes I feel like I'm drowning. It is the worst hell. I was sad last month because of people I can't control. Why? They choose hate and lies and people choose to believe and I refuse to even attempt to change their minds. If you KNOW ME you should know the truth. God knows who I am, and the people that love me. But the stress, the mourning (it's like a death) really took over. I was catatonic almost. Indifferent. Showering was like...running a marathon. I truly thought my life was not worth living. I'd have crazy thoughts about what is the easiest, most pain free way to go. Please, if you feel that way, seek help. Be robotic. I didn't want help, but knew the protocol to save myself and just did it. I had to remove all feeling.

But then something tragic and magical happened soon after. They discontinued my meds and put me on this patch thing. My heart felt confused. I was withdrawing from the other thing and my heart was beating erratically. When it does that, you cannot breathe. I was laying here convinced I was going to die in front of my son. My body was started to get rigid and things were jerking. I begged my husband to come home. I couldn't have my little guy be here if this was it. But I tried my hardest to keep my gaze on him, to stay alive.

And then I just said the Our Father. I wasn't ready to die. I apologized over and over for such stupid thoughts. It felt wrong. I was meant to live. And then something crazy happened - something that happens when I am praying and spot on - my entire body filled with chills and a squeeze. It's like a hug from a ghost. An angel? A loved one that has transitioned before me? Jesus? I don't know. But I DO know, I don't want to go - I don't want to suffocate to death slowly either, I don't want to lose all my faculties (the spreading to my throat and ears suggests the lesion is getting bigger and I am closer to that), BUT I don't want to go now. It's too soon. And you know who I worried about other than my kids and T, my family that I am estranged from, "God don't let them find out I passed, not like this. They don't love me, but death changes people and I don't want them rehashing the awful things they did."

I was really dying. And I was thinking of the people who have caused me the greatest pain in my life, "God, please, I can't go thinking they may be hurt."

Maybe there was a point to this. I will let go of worry etc. Just be happy and make people smile. And maybe I am not so bad because my heart was broken for the people who continuously try to break me.

I am loved. I'm so blessed. And you need to know, yes it is depressing feeling like you are a burden. But God made you and every person who gets to know you and love you and laugh because of you... is blessed. I had to share my story with a woman in the same situation as me, this morning, only she didn't want to live. I could tell she was struggling. Her post read like my diary. So, I decided this is what I needed to tell her, and I am telling you. My heart started beating normally again for a reason, I regained breath...maybe it is to tell you to stop feeling like you have no purpose. Every person, caretaker, who gets to touch you is blessed and is fulfilling a divine calling to love and serve and connect...

Hug anyone and everything you can. I don't care if it's a tree. I'm not hugging enough. Try it. It helps. And believe me whenI say, you really do not want to end this life. You just want to end MS. There's a difference. This is for Ella.

If you feel any feelings whatsoever about suicide, please call the National suicide Prevention Healthline, Call 1-800-273-8255